Cataclysmic Reaction
by wackyjacqs
Summary: They didn't expect to be here, not like this. The upheaval, the pain, and knowing that everything had come crashing down around them. Missing scene for S4, Beneath The Surface. Can be read as a prequel to my OS 'Charged Chemistry', but can equally stand alone. S/J.


**A/N: Episode addition to S4 'Beneath The Surface'. It can be read as a prequel to my OS, Charged Chemistry, but can also stand alone. **

**I'm on a real angst outing at the minute. Apologies in advance. :)**

* * *

**Cataclysmic Reaction**

* * *

Jack stood in the middle of the ramp, Carter to his left, Daniel and Teal'c to his right as they watched the staff in the Control Room erupt with applause.

"Welcome home, SG-1," Hammond smiled as he entered the Gate Room and walked towards his flagship team.

"Thank you, Sir," Jack replied absently.

He took an inventory of his surroundings.

The dull gray walls, the click and hiss of the blast door as it slid closed, the bald man in a short-sleeved shirt. Yes, Jack O'Neill was home.

"I gather we have a lot to discuss, but first I'd like you all to visit the infirmary. Doctor Fraiser is expecting you," the General added with a sympathetic smile as he took in the tired and dirty looking people before him.

The Colonel nodded to show he'd heard the General's dismissal and gestured for Daniel and Teal'c to go first. He had just made a move to follow when he felt a hand on his left arm.

"Sir -"

Turning around, Jack saw the color drain from Carter's face.

"Carter!" he called, catching her just in time as she collapsed into his arms.

"We need a medic!" The Colonel shouted over his shoulder as he began searching for a pulse.

* * *

Jack stuck his head around the infirmary door. Seeing no one around, he entered and made his way towards the only occupied bed, where his Second-in-Command was lying, still unconscious.

Glancing surreptitiously around, he ducked through the gap in the curtain that had been drawn around the bed. He took a moment to observe her and he felt his breath catch. Moving closer, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind Sam's ear, then decided he was on dangerous ground, so let his hand fall by his side. Lowering himself onto the chair beside the bed, he let out a sigh when he heard the distinctive clicking of Janet's heels against the infirmary floor come closer.

"Doc," he greeted simply, turning his attention to Carter, rather than the annoyed-looking doctor as she drew the curtain aside.

"Colonel, I thought I ordered you to get some rest."

"I did."

Janet raised an eyebrow. "Sir, you've only been gone for forty minutes. I told you I didn't want to see you back here for two hours."

He shrugged, before asking, "How is she?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Janet's hands disappear into her coat pockets as she shook her head.

"There's been no change since you left, Sir."

She trailed off with a sigh, and Jack nodded. Carter had come around shortly after they'd brought her into the infirmary, but when he leaned closer to see if she was okay, all she had done was whisper in his ear the one word he now hated with a vengeance.

_Jonah._

Sam, perhaps fortunately, passed out after that and he had chosen to stay by her side – until Janet had ordered him to leave.

Vaguely aware that Fraiser had started speaking again, Jack straightened and tried to follow the medical jargon as best he could. The doctor's hesitancy caught his attention though and he frowned, turning to look at her.

"Doc?"

"Does the word 'Jonah' mean anything to you, Sir?" she asked carefully.

_There was the damn word again._

The Colonel tensed before letting his attention drift back to his teammate. "No. It doesn't."

Choosing to ignore the suspicious look he knew was being directed his way, he continued. "She's going to be okay, right, Janet?"

The petite woman was taken aback by the use of her first name, and it took her a moment to answer. "Yes, Sir."

"How long 'til she gets out of here? Hammond will want to know," he added, silently hoping the doctor would buy his reason for asking.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Janet shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Sir. Normally, I would say at least a week before clearing someone for active duty; but we'll not know for sure until she regains consciousness. You were missing for four weeks, Colonel, and Sam's lost a lot of weight in that time, as well as showing signs of mild dehydration... I also need to run another test," she added carefully.

Jack's eyes flew to hers. "What kind of test?"

Janet hesitated, wondering how much she should share. In the end, she decided to be honest - the Colonel would find out anyway. He usually did when it involved the welfare of his team. "Sam's preliminary blood tests show an elevated white blood cell count."

Jack stared at her blankly, despite his heart now thundering against his chest. He was no expert, but he knew of two things that diagnosis could mean. He swallowed hard at the possible consequences.

"And? So? Therefore?"

His friend held a hand up in a defensive gesture.

"It could simply be an infection her body is trying to fight, or it could be... something else. It's just routine, Sir."

It took a few moments, but eventually Jack looked away. His reaction intrigued the doctor, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she observed his body language, and wondered – not for the first time – what exactly had happened to them out there.

Seeing the Colonel settle further back into the plastic chair she sighed, knowing he wouldn't be leaving that spot until Sam was awake.

"Call me if there's any change, Sir," she said quietly, drawing the curtain fully closed around the bed and leaving the two team members alone.

* * *

It was a further thirty minutes before a soft whimper caught Jack's attention. Lifting his head from where it rested against the back of the chair, he immediately straightened when he saw Sam was awake – her bright blue eyes glassy and unfocused, yet trained on his face.

His chest tightened as he watched contentment, then confusion flash through Sam's eyes before realization settled. When Sam closed her eyes and turned her face away from him, it hurt. He couldn't help himself though and used the opportunity to move closer; leaning forward in the chair, he rested his elbows on his thighs.

"Hey," he eventually murmured.

"Hey," Sam croaked.

A second later, a cup of water was hovering in front of her face and a straw directed towards her mouth. After a couple of sips, she nodded and the Colonel set the cup back on the unit.

"How're you feeling?"

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his BDUs, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. Her strained 'Fine, Sir', only served to tell him what he already knew. She was anything _but_ fine.

He'd had hours to think over the time they had spent on that P3R-118 and he had only succeeded in driving himself crazy. In the end, he decided that, for now, he had no other option but to lock the memories away in that room – a room that was quickly becoming crowded. He knew Carter would have to do the same. They didn't have any other choice right now.

As he saw the various emotions battling in her eyes, he desperately wanted to reach out and touch her; to tell her he understood and that it was okay... that _she_ would be okay, but the words wouldn't come.

Because deep down, he knew that wasn't what he really wanted to tell her.

Not now. Not anymore.

Not when the two of them had crossed every single line on that damn planet.

Before, when they were alleged to have been Za'tarcs and forced to admit their feelings for each other, it had been relatively easy for them to lock everything away and continue as if it had never happened. This time, it was different.

Because before, any time Jack thought about Samantha Carter, he just had his imagination to rely on, but now he had experienced the reality.

Now, he knew everything about her, in the most intimate of ways; like how she sighed his name when he kissed her neck, or how her fingers set his skin on fire as they danced along his spine, how she tasted on his tongue...

Before he could go past the point of no return, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Carter. I -"

"Don't apologize, Sir. We both..." She trailed off as her skin turned a light shade of pink and Jack forced himself to look away.

"I, ah, I need to get the Doc."

He saw disappointed expression, but then it was gone and she was nodding. "Yes, Sir."

The Colonel's jaw tightened at the salutation. He _really_ hated that word as well.

Choosing not to look back, he disappeared behind the curtain and Sam heard him call for Janet. Moments later, the doctor appeared by her beside, but Sam's attention was focused on the retreating form of her Commanding Officer.

* * *

Sam inhaled sharply at she turned onto her side, jarring the IV in her hand. The pain made her stop and she was forced to bite back the tears.

Closing her eyes as the room started to spin, Sam took a deep breath to try and calm down. She had only been back on Earth for a few hours, but she was finding it really difficult to readjust and settle. Granted, it was more difficult when she was lying in an infirmary bed and drifting in and out of consciousness, but everything just seemed… harder, this time.

Even when Janet had carried out her tests an hour ago, Sam found it laborious answering her friends' questions. She was confused, she felt sick and a heavy weight persistently pressed down on her chest. It made her feel like she was slowly suffocating.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Sam jump. She blushed when she saw the Colonel standing, his hands behind his back.

"The Doc says you're feeling better," he greeted.

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Sir."

"She also said you need to eat," he added pointedly, his eyes falling to the tray of food beside her bed that lay untouched.

"I'm not hungry, Sir."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Janet said you'd no appetite." He looked at the food again and pulled a face. "Can't say I blame you," he added, silently hoping it really was soup in one of the bowls.

He took a step closer. "You really should eat something, Carter."

"Is that an order. _Sir_," she whispered.

"Sam… _Carter_," Jack corrected quietly. He opened and closed his mouth as he thought of something else to say. In the end, he remained quiet but took another step closer. Removing one arm from behind his back, he lifted the tray and set it at the bottom of the bed. His other arm then appeared and Sam couldn't help the small smile as he held out a spoon and a glass of blue Jell-O.

"Try this."

He waited patiently as Sam watched him. After what felt like an eternity, she took the dessert. She didn't immediately start to eat it, rather choosing to place the glass on her lap, but he decided against saying anything. Feeling slightly awkward, the Colonel thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Trying to ignore Sam's calculating expression, he stared at his combat boots.

"I, ah, thought after four weeks of rationed crap, you'd like something... that tasted more like food," he explained.

He winced slightly, realizing that blue Jell-O wasn't exactly 'food'.

Sam gave him a small smile. "Thank you... Sir," she whispered.

He heard her voice waver but all he could do was offer a strained smile in response. Drawing a hand from his pocket, he ran it across the back of his neck.

"Think of it as a get well soon offering... and an apology," he murmured, as his eyes slowly met hers.

Sam's frown deepened. "Sir?"

She tried to get her CO's attention, but his eyes fell to the glass of Jell-O.

"Back on '118, when we… ah…" He trailed off with a wince, then cleared his throat. "I remember… afterwards… you were talking about dessert," he said, the smallest grin on his lips. "But… well, it was the only thing I couldn't give you that night. Now..."

His smile changed to one full of regret and sadness. "Now, it's the only thing I can."

Brown eyes clashed with blue as Jack finally looked at his Second-in-Command once more, and he held steady as he heard Sam gasp. He was telling her everything he couldn't say and silently begged for her to understand.

Then he saw it; the moment she understood.

"Sir… Jack. I –"

Her words were cut off as the sound of Janet's heels could be heard from across the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, Sam," the Colonel whispered, before disappearing behind the curtain, leaving her staring after him with tear-filled eyes.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not involved in the medical profession, so I apologize if I made a mistake regarding the white cell count reference. I know there are a few specific factors that can trigger an elevated cell count; such as stress, leukemia, an infection or pregnancy. **

**Being honest, the last two factors (infection or pregnancy) were the ones I had in mind when I was writing this fic. As this is an OS, I'll let you all decide what the test results revealed for yourselves. :) **


End file.
